


A Very Night Vale Christmas

by Shadow_Side



Series: Christmas in Night Vale [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Christmas fic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Shadow_Side
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas in Night Vale, and Cecil and Carlos just want some quiet time to themselves… however, science has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Night Vale Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written Christmas fic before but I couldn't help myself this time. I mean… it's all their fault… ;-)
> 
> Many thanks to Davechicken for the beta, and for the idea about the scientists' Christmas lights. And thanks to Night Vale itself for the thing about the drugged government bears, which made me almost crash my car the first time I listened to that one!

The afternoon's vital project is almost complete. Barely breathing – lest he somehow disturb all his intricate work – Carlos slips the final object into place, letting go of it with care and then rising to his feet, taking a step back. He folds his arms, examining the sight in front of him for a long moment before nodding.

"OK," he says. "It's done. Hit the power."

Behind him, Cecil flicks the crucial switch… and the Christmas tree lights flash into life.

"Perfect!" he exclaims, moving over from the wall socket to step in behind his boyfriend, wrapping both arms around his waist. They stand like that for a moment, looking at the Christmas tree they've been decorating in Carlos' living room for the last hour.

"I can't believe it's almost Christmas again," Carlos remarks, leaning back into the embrace. "I mean, I know time doesn't work here, but it usually goes _slower_ , not faster, and it really doesn't feel like a year since _last_ Christmas. Although… I'm not complaining. Not when I get to spend it all with you this time."

"What did you do last Christmas?" Cecil can't help asking.

"A group of us got together," Carlos replies. "The usual science crowd. It was nice… if a little tricky, because Vincent is a vegetarian, Hayley is scared of all poultry – dead or alive – and Frederick had just broken up with his girlfriend because he discovered she didn't believe in the colour green. I had to ply them all with more mulled wine than seemed sensible… but it worked in the end because nothing ended up on fire and they all came back for New Year's. Not that I remember much of _that_ night because Toby and Arlene thought it would be funny to introduce everyone to tequila and… I really just said all that out loud, didn't I?"

"You did," Cecil says, with a warm laugh. "You scientists are a wild bunch when you get together. I still can't look at folding chairs the same way after that incident at Thanksgiving…"

Carlos shudders. "Me neither," he agrees. "Maybe… let's agree to have a quiet Christmas? Just you, me, and absolutely nothing weird, dangerous or flammable."

"…Much as I admire your intentions… you know this is Night Vale, right? Weird, dangerous and flammable all tend to come as standard."

"I know," Carlos admits. "I guess I must like it that way."

"Besides," Cecil goes on, laying a kiss on the side of Carlos' neck, "I have you. So it's going to be perfect, whatever happens. Though… it never snows."

"…That's because we live in the middle of a desert," Carlos points out. "The hot kind of desert."

"I know. But sometimes… I still wish it would. For _Christmas_. I always used to wish it would when I was a child, too."

Carlos laughs a little. "When I was a child, I tried to build a trap to catch Santa Claus. It was very complex. One of my best inventions… at least, for a seven-year-old."

"Oh my," Cecil says. "Did it work?"

This makes Carlos turn to look at him, though he stays wrapped in close. "…Santa Claus isn't real," he replies. "My parents had to explain it to me. After they'd gotten my dad out of the net."

"…Uh, Santa Claus _is_ real," Cecil insists. "I mean, yes, he's not a jolly old man in a red suit, that would just be _silly_. 'Santa Claus' is the operation run by the CIA every Christmas Eve, when they send out thousands of drugged bears to deliver presents to all the good children. And eat the bad ones."

Carlos stares at him. "…Santa Claus is not a team of bears," he replies, looking a little taken aback.

"No, no, he is… I mean, it is," Cecil says, nodding. "Drugged government bears."

"…Right," Carlos manages. "I… right. Government bears. OK."

Cecil pats him on the shoulder. "Maybe now would be a good time to introduce me to that mulled wine of yours," he suggests.

"I think maybe you're right," Carlos agrees.

***

They're midway through their second glass of mulled wine – and it really is good – when there's a knock at the door. Leaving Cecil on the couch, where they've been curled up together, Carlos goes to find out who it is… and comes back with two of his scientists in tow.

Toby and Arlene. They're… a little more sane than some of the team, although that isn't actually saying a lot. Right now they both look deeply concerned (a common state of affairs for them) and seem to be resisting the urge to pace about.

"What is it?" Cecil asks, rising to his feet as well. He can't deny a flicker of hope that there might be an interesting calamity of science about to befall them, given that they make for great reports on his show, and Carlos _always_ saves the day so it works out in the end.

"Oh, it's not good, not good at all!" Toby exclaims. "It's… oh, well, at least yours seems normal…" He's looking at the Christmas tree as he says this, though Cecil can't work out the connection just yet.

"Toby," Carlos says, levelly, "start from the beginning."

"Uh… yes, the beginning, sorry," Toby replies. "We were just out, helping people put up lights on the row of trees a couple of blocks over. Outside the shopping precinct."

"It was all going so well!" Arlene chips in. "And then… then they turned them on, and… Carlos, the trees don't exist anymore!"

"…They don't exist?" Carlos repeats, looking surprised.

"No!" Toby exclaims. "The lights are still there, as if they're still draped over the branches… but the trees are gone!"

"I… see," Carlos manages. "So… what happens if you turn the lights off again?"

"We didn't dare try!" Arlene tells him. "We were worried it might unmake the universe or something!"

"Will you come look at it?" Toby asks. "No one gets this stuff better than you."

"No one gets this stuff at all," Carlos murmurs, but he's grinning as he glances back at Cecil. "What do you think?" he says. "Quick field trip?"

And Cecil grins. "You know I can't resist those."

***

Downing the remains of their mulled wine, they head out into the darkness. Night Vale is always beautiful at this time – glowing softly under a sky dotted with stars – but it's even more lovely now, given all the Christmas lights shining in the windows of houses, or draped on the walls and fences.

Toby and Arlene lead the way, hurrying off at once, leaving Cecil and Carlos to follow on behind, hand in hand, and – if truth be told – leaning on each other a little.

"How much wine was in that mulled wine of yours?" Cecil stage-whispers.

"Quite a lot," Carlos admits, clearly attempting to look sheepish.

"Is it wise to be doing science when we're this… you know, merry?"

"Cecil," Carlos replies, stopping for a second and now attempting what is evidently supposed to be his Serious Scientist Face, "it's _Christmas_. You're supposed to be merry."

He stares for a few seconds, as if trying to make the point, and then collapses into laughter. This of course makes Cecil laugh too – because it really is terribly, _terribly_ funny – and draws the attention of the two scientists up ahead.

Toby and Arlene both turn, giving them slightly quizzical looks. Carlos immediately tries to calm down and look sensible, but as soon as they set off walking once more he collapses into giggles again.

"No more mulled wine for you," Cecil whispers. "At least… not until we get back. Then lots. Also you have to tell me the truth about last New Year's, because I _know_ you got up to something…"

"It's really not that exciting," Carlos tries to insist. "Really. And it didn't eat anyone, no matter _what_ Frederick tells you, so… oh. Ooh, look at that…"

At this point they round the final corner and walk into the square outside the shopping precinct. There's a row of trees lining the edge of it… or, there were. Instead, there's a series of empty flowerbeds, with glowing purple Christmas lights seemingly hanging in mid-air above them. A few other people are here; all of them staring at the not-trees in concern.

"…OK, that is pretty neat," Cecil says. "How are they doing that?"

"I have no idea," Carlos replies. Actually having a scientific conundrum put in front of him seems to focus his mind somewhat, and he manages to look genuinely serious (OK, _mostly_ genuinely serious) as he approaches the lights. "That's…"

"Weird?" Arlene suggests.

"Scary?" Toby chips in.

"…Standard fare for Night Vale?" Cecil adds.

Carlos nods. "All of the above. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Toby insists. "We just helped put up the lights, and when we switched them on… this happened!"

"Hmmm," Carlos says, folding his arms and regarding the not-trees with his head on one side (clearly still trying to look sensible, because Cecil can tell the difference.) "Well. This calls for further investigation…"

And, as Toby and Arlene both stare at him in horror, Carlos approaches the nearest set of lights and reaches out to tap one of the bulbs. It sways a little – exactly as you might expect if everything was completely normal – but no more than that.

"Hmmm," Carlos says again. "What about if I..?"

He trails off as he reaches out once more, this time trying to touch where the tree ought to be. But, sure enough, his hand goes right through the (admittedly) empty space.

"…OK, that's weird," he concedes, pulling back and staring some more.

"You see?!" Arlene exclaims. "It doesn't exist! It's as bad as that house over in Desert Creek!"

"I don't think things are _that_ serious just yet," Carlos replies. "Plus, the house over in Desert Creek still _looks_ like it's there. At least these trees have the decency to disappear. Hmmm. Maybe… try turning the lights off again?"

"What if we unmake the universe?" Toby asks, sounding a little frantic.

"…I don't think we'll unmake the universe," Carlos tries to reassure him.

Toby still does not look convinced. "All right… but if we do, remember that I told you so…"

"I'll… bear that in mind," Carlos replies. "OK, Arlene, hit the switch."

Looking quite alarmed by the prospect, Arlene hesitates a moment before doing as she's asked, but – as she flicks the switch – the lights all go out, and there, in the darkness, are the trees.

"OK, that is even more awesome," Cecil can't help saying.

"And weird!" Arlene insists.

Carlos reaches out, laying a hand on the nearest tree… and, sure enough, it's clearly there, solid and real. Keeping his hand against the smooth bark, he glances back at Arlene. "Try turning them on again?"

"…All right," Arlene agrees, nervously, and hits the switch… and Carlos' hand immediately moves through thin air as the lights come on, and the tree… apparently ceases to exist.

"Wow," he manages, looking at his hand in surprise. "That really _is_ weird. You seem to have invented non-existent trees!"

"It wasn't us!" Toby says, guiltily. "We just put the lights up!"

"Where did you even get them from?" Carlos now asks, as Cecil steps in closer, risking an attempt to touch the tree and finding it indeed not there.

"From the municipal decorations repository next to City Hall," Arlene tells him. "We help with this every year."

Carlos looks thoughtful. "And… have you seen these particular lights before?"

"Uh… no, come to think of it, these ones are new," Arlene replies. "We thought they looked good so we decided to use them… but I don't think they were here last Christmas."

"It must be something to do with the City Council," Carlos says. "For what insane purpose, I have no idea, but it definitely has their fingerprints all over it. Assuming they _have_ fingerprints, of course…"

By now, Cecil has been staring quietly at the not-trees for a long moment, and he can't quite shake the thought that's come to mind. This is perhaps partly the fault of the mulled wine, but he _is_ an inquisitive soul by nature – and a journalist to boot – so surely he can chalk it up to that?

"There's something we could try," he says, which makes the three scientists all look at him. "If the trees are here when the lights are off, but _not_ here when they're on… maybe they go somewhere."

"It's a clear possibility," Carlos agrees. "Why, what are you thinking..?"

"Well, I know it sounds sort of insane, but… maybe if one of _us_ puts the Christmas lights on _themself_ , and we turn the lights on… maybe that person would be able to see where the trees go."

"Or maybe they'd unmake the universe!" Arlene exclaims.

"Or get trapped in an alternate reality with no means of escape!" Toby adds.

"It does sound a little risky…" Carlos says.

Cecil does his very best sad-but-hopeful face, which is alarmingly easy thanks to the two generous glasses of mulled wine, and the ever-growing pull of _science_ that having a beautiful and amazing scientist boyfriend has instilled in him.

"…but we could try it," Carlos concedes. And from the look in his eyes, it's entirely possible he was waiting to be talked into it.

"You're insane!" Toby exclaims.

"You might never be seen again!" Arlene says.

"Let me try," Cecil asks. "That way, if anything goes wrong, I'll have three brilliant scientists on hand to rescue me."

Well. One brilliant scientist and two brilliant-but-neurotic ones. But it's close enough.

"All right," Carlos agrees. "Just for a moment, though. Then we're pulling you back."

And so, moments later – trying very, very hard not to collapse into giggles – Cecil is covered in a long string of inactive Christmas lights. "Be careful," Carlos insists. "Much as all this is in the name of science, I don't want anything bad happening to you. Just… stay still and find out what you can – or can’t – see when the lights come on."

"I will," Cecil promises. "OK. Let's do some _Christmas_ science!"

Toby and Arlene exchange a look that says, quite plainly, _our team leader's boyfriend is insane_. Carlos hits the switch… and the world goes purple.

***

It's snowing on the other side. Snowing a purple, crystalline snow that's warm to the touch. Cecil puts a hand out to catch a few flakes, staring at it in amazement.

He's standing in a place that looks like the one he's just left… except that everything is glowing purple. He can still see Carlos, Toby and Arlene, but they seem like distant shadows and – from the way they're moving – they can't see him anymore.

The trees are here, too; standing normal – if purple – and draped in their lights.

And then he looks up through the impossible snow and sees a huge planet hanging in the indigo sky… a dark planet of awesome size, lit by no sun; all jagged peaks and deep, turbulent oceans. For a moment that seems to stretch into an eternity, Cecil stares up at it, captivated by the sight, almost but not quite understanding what it could mean… and then the lights flick off.

***

He blinks. The world is back to normal, and the three scientists are all staring at him in confusion.

No, not confusion… _concern_.

"What did you see?" Carlos asks, a little excitedly.

"I think I may have been in another dimension," Cecil manages. "It was very… purple. I could still see all of you, but… distantly… though the trees were there. And I could see something in the sky, too… a dark planet."

Toby perks up. "A dark planet of awesome size?"

"Yes."

"Lit by no sun?" Arlene asks.

"Yes."

"All jagged peaks and deep, turbulent oceans?" Toby adds.

"Yes!"

"…Maybe don't go there again," Arlene suggests.

"I… think maybe you're right," Cecil agrees. "It was a little… weird."

"I guess this calls for the usual solution to inexplicable but potentially dangerous quirks of science in Night Vale," Carlos adds, with a self-aware smile.

Cecil headtilts. "Which is?"

"Warning tape and an explanatory piece on your show."

This makes Cecil smile too. "You sort the former and I'll see to the latter. What do you think about a brief editorial entitled _'Why you should stay in your own dimension this Christmas'_?"

"Or maybe _'Beware reality-shifting Christmas lights that the City Council may intend for sinister purposes…'_?" Arlene suggests.

"Or just _'Why you should stay inside and leave the real world to the professionals'_?" Toby chips in.

Before Cecil can respond to this, there's the sudden roar of tyres and a car pulls up at the edge of the square, blue lights flashing on its roof.

"…Oh no," Toby squeaks, jumping behind Arlene. "It's the Sheriff's Secret Police!"

"Let me handle this," Carlos insists, in the tone of a man who has had to do so on multiple occasions in the past.

The car's doors open and two men climb out: two men in leather balaclavas and waist-length cloaks, with blowdart pipes slung over their backs. They walk across in the manner of officers stuck on a late shift who have finally found themselves something interesting to do besides circle the block over and over.

"Well, well, well," says the taller officer. "What exactly is going on here?"

"…Science?" Carlos tries.

"Why is one of you wearing a string of Christmas lights?" the shorter officer asks.

Cecil looks sheepish. "…Science?" he also tries.

"…Are those the City Council's special new lights for their Christmas party next week?" says the taller officer, a little suspiciously.

"Oh dear," Arlene says. "We found them in the municipal decorations repository. Should they… not have been there?"

"I would say not," the shorter officer replies, folding his arms. "Perhaps we had better take them in before there are… consequences."

"Like..?" Carlos tries.

"Like _consequences_ ," the shorter officer says. " _Consequential_ consequences."

In the face of logic like this… it's better not to argue.

***

With this in mind – and deciding a quick exit might be wise – they leave the two Secret Policemen to gather up the possibly cursed and/or trans-dimensional Christmas lights and head off. Cecil and Carlos manage to direct Toby and Arlene off towards their own place, before setting off back to Carlos' apartment-slash-lab.

When they're finally alone, Carlos collapses into giggles again. "Oh dear, do you think we were nearly arrested?"

"I think maybe we were!" Cecil agrees. "Let's not do that again too soon. Even for science."

"Seconded," Carlos says.

"Instead, let's get back to that lovely mulled wine of yours."

"Also seconded! Although…" and here Carlos lowers his voice, "…did you really see another dimension when we turned those lights on?"

"I did," Cecil tells him. "It even had purple snow. It's probably for the best that you pulled me back, though. If those lights belong to the City Council… they're likely for some purpose about which we are not meant to know."

Carlos shudders a little. "Probably true," he agrees.

"Though… I did like the snow…" Cecil adds, wistfully.

Carlos grips his hand perhaps a little tighter than usual, and they head on home.

***

Cecil wakes up very early on Christmas morning to the sound of furious banging and thrashing, and unearthly roars of distress. He sits bolt upright at once, looking around for the source of the commotion… which seems to be coming from out in the central room of Carlos' apartment.

The other man wakes up a second later, also sitting bolt upright and staring at the door with an expression equal parts shock and triumph.

"…What was that?" Cecil asks, urgently.

"I… ah… I don't know how to tell you this…" Carlos starts, but then he trails off, blushing furiously and climbing quickly out of bed, pulling on his dressing gown.

And – before Cecil can push him for an explanation – Carlos hurries out into the living room, to be greeted by another burst of movement and confused roaring. Alarmed, Cecil clambers out of bed as well and tugs on his own dressing gown.

But before he can race out into the living room to find out what's going on, Carlos hurtles back into the bedroom, slams the door shut, and leans on it.

"…What _is_ going on out there?" Cecil asks.

Carlos looks over at him, expression now a mixture of hysterical glee and overwhelming guilt. "I… uh… well… you know a couple of weeks back when we were putting up the tree and talking about things, and you were saying how Santa Claus is a CIA operation involving drugged bears, and I didn't believe you..?"

"…Yes," Cecil replies, carefully.

"And you remember how I told you I built a trap to _catch_ Santa Claus when I was seven?"

"Yes…" Cecil says again.

There's another burst of roaring from out in the living room, and Cecil's mind finally puts two and two together. "…Carlos," he says, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. "Tell me something."

"…Mhm?" Carlos manages, a little squeakily, as if fighting to look and sound innocent… which gets even harder as another burst of confused roaring cuts the air.

"…Is there now a bear in your living room? A drugged government bear? Perhaps caught in an ingenious trap of some kind?"

"…If I said no and asked you to give me half an hour… would you believe me?" Carlos asks, tone still about an octave higher than usual.

Cecil folds his arms, fighting not to collapse into hysterical laughter, because – potential mortal peril aside – the look on Carlos' face is utterly priceless.

"Carlos," Cecil says, trying to keep his voice level, "love of my life, would you like me to help you get the bear out of the living room?"

Carlos manages a nod.

***

In the end, it takes considerably more than half an hour. The trap may be ingenious – he invented this when he was _seven_?! – but the bear is significantly put-out by being interrupted from its festive duties.

The sun is starting to come up as they finally shoo it out the front door, watching the red-hatted and deeply unimpressed ursine creature amble off into the approaching dawn. When it's gone, Cecil and Carlos collapse side-by-side on the couch, in the somewhat upturned living room.

"Well," Cecil manages, after a long, long pause. "That was… different. At least the tree survived the chaos. And now you believe me about the drugged government bears, right?"

"Oh yes," Carlos tells him. "I believe you. I solemnly swear never to doubt you again. And I know this is our first Christmas together… but I promise this part does not have to become a quirky tradition. The mulled wine, yes. The potentially cursed lights… perhaps. The violent festive bear? Definitely not."

"Seconded," Cecil says, reaching to pull Carlos into a hug. "Even if it was sort of fun…"

Carlos grins up at him, but doesn't say anything for a moment… and then he suddenly jumps back, with an expression of renewed delight. "Oh! It's Christmas morning! That means… I can show you the special present I've been working on!"

"You have?" Cecil replies, intrigued. "What is it?"

"Science!" Carlos tells him. "Wait here…"

He hurries off in the direction of his lab, coming back a moment later with what looks like a giant firework.

"…It's not dangerous, is it?" Cecil asks, cautiously. "I just spent half the night trying to chase a bear out of your living room. I've had enough mortal peril for one Christmas."

"Oh no, don't worry, it's perfectly safe," Carlos insists. "You're going to love it."

He grabs Cecil's hand and tugs him upright, pulling him out the front door and into the street beyond. It's still very quiet, the horizon glowing orange with the promise of dawn, and the sky clear and cloudless.

"Watch this," Carlos says, sticking the honestly-not-a-firework into the ground, lighting it, and stepping back.

There's a flurry of sparks, a whoosh, and the not-firework launches into the air, hurtling higher and higher as the two men stand below, staring up at it. Eventually – far overhead – it explodes in a burst of white smoke and light.

"…I thought you said it wasn't a firework..?" Cecil says, a little confused.

"And it isn't," Carlos replies, smiling. "Look."

Up above, the white smoke is spreading rapidly outwards, forming a thick layer of cloud that builds and builds, covering the sky. And then… amazingly… it starts to snow.

Cecil stares at it, stunned beyond words, watching as the air fills with a flurry of thick, white flakes. He puts a hand out, catching one, feeling it real and surprisingly cold – and not at all purple – against his skin.

"…How did you do that?" he breathes, turning to look at Carlos in amazement.

"Science," Carlos tells him. "Science, two weeks of frantic research, and a slight disregard for the laws of nature. Do you like it?"

"I love it!" Cecil exclaims, turning to wrap both arms around his brilliant scientist boyfriend. "This is, without a doubt, already the best Christmas ever."

"…Even including the bear?"

"Even including the bear." He cups Carlos' face and kisses him, full of warmth and love and that deep, undeniable feeling when you realise that _this is the one_. "It's perfect. Like you."

Carlos – beautiful, perfect, brilliant Carlos – smiles at him. "Merry Christmas, Cecil."

And Cecil smiles back. "Merry Christmas, Carlos."


End file.
